I grabbed hold of her wrist
And my hand closed from tip to tip
I said, "You've taken the diet too far
You've got to let it slip"
But she's not eating again
She's not eating again
She's not eating again
She's not eating again
I ask her to speak French
And then I need her to translate
I get the feeling she makes the meaning
More significant
She was always far to pretty
For me to believe in a single word she said
Believe a word she said
♪
At fourteen her mother died
In a routine operation
From allergic reaction
To a general anaesthetic
Spent the rest of her teens
Experimenting with prescriptions
In a futile attempt to know more than the doctors
She said one day to leave her
Sand up to her shoulders
Waiting for the tide
To drag her to the ocean
To another sea's shore
This thing hurts like hell
But what did you expect?
And all you can hear
Is the sound of your own heart
And all you can feel
Is your lungs flood
And the blood course
But, oh, I can see
Five hundred years dead-set ahead of me
Five hundred behind
A thousand years in perfect symmetry
♪
Best known left wrist, right finger
Through all the Southern states
On every video games machine
They called her "Triple A"
There were racists on the radio
Trying to give up smoking
The chat show host, he joked
"You have to wait for the government program"
Talk about your politics
And I wonder if you could be one of them
But you could never kiss a tory boy
Without wanting to cut off your tongue again
A good place to look to the future
Is when you were sat at the sea
With the salt up to your ankles
And the view at the end of the pier
You may look down at your model's feet
And wish that you'd just float away
And the weather here is overcast
And the sea is the same shade of grey
So the landscape before you
Looks just like the edge of the world
But to the left side and the right side
Either way is a crazy golf course
The sea is a good place (the sea is a good place)
To think of (to think about) the future
And all you can hear
Is the sound of your own heart
And all you can feel
Is your lungs flood
And the blood course
But, oh, I can see
Five hundred years dead-set ahead of me
Five hundred behind
A thousand years in perfect symmetry
A thousand years, not getting rid of me
A thousand years in perfect symmetry